


Bridge

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Baby, Gen, Not Beta Read, Sacrifice, Spirits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26526817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A baby was crying inside a church.
Kudos: 1
Collections: Anonymous





	Bridge

The church had once been a beautiful place. Echoes of it were there in the cracked stained-glass windows and white pillars covered by layers of grime and dust.

Horrible things had happened in this place. Innocent blood had been spilled in the name of gods who did not exist. Shale couldn’t fix that. He could, however, offer peace to an innocent soul who had suffered and been denied peace.

The altar had likely been made from white marble. Shale could not see it. To his eye, the altar was completely covered in thick, dark red blood. It dripped down and soaked into the tiles around the altar. He could smell it as he approached, sharp and acrid.

The spirit of the poor little baby was laid out on the altar, howling as loudly as its little lungs could manage.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Shale said as he laid a hand over the little boy’s small chest, heedless of the blood. He used some of his magic, a simple spell to cleanse the spirit. His hand glowed with orange light and the blood disappeared, the ugly wound the sacrificial knife had inflicted in the poor child’s chest gone as though it had never been there at all.

_A waste of magic_ , his old master would tell him. _Just do your job and get it over with_. _It’s not like Death cares what they look like._ It didn’t seem right, though, to leave them marked by the manner of their death.

“People can be greedy, heartless fools, can’t they?” he murmured as he settled the baby in his arms. He walked between the columns of pews toward the entrance, cooing to the baby and trying to make him smile.

“Oh, there you are.” One of the faces he pulled had finally succeeded in getting a smile and adorable little giggle.

The field he stepped out onto as he walked outside was most definitely not the outside of the church. If he looked behind him, Shale knew he would see nothing but fresh green grass, wildflowers and trees in the distance.

Ahead of him was the wide, quiet river with the most magnificent bridge he had ever seen stretching across it.

Shale stepped onto the white stone of the bridge. The shadows of the arches above made dark stripes on the ground. The area on both sides of the path was grass and Shale passed benches and flower bushes as he walked.

He wondered if anyone ever sat on one of those benches and thought about their lives, about the things they had done and people they had left behind.

The Gatekeeper was waiting for him halfway across. She wore a sky-blue dress and her hair was long, left to hang loose in golden waves down her back. Her blue eyes were warm and she smiled at Shale as he approached with the baby boy in his arms.

“Hello, Winter. A pleasure to see you, as always.”

She had always called him that and he had no idea why. He had tried to ask once, but she had said that she would tell him someday on the other side of the river.

“Ma’am,” Shale greeted her. He held out the baby to her and she took him, smiling down at him in delight.

“What a beautiful child. Thank you for bringing him home, and in such good spirits. Look how happy he is! You wouldn’t believe how many of your brothers and sisters won’t set so much as a single toe on my bridge. They just drop souls in the field and leave.” She began to gently rock the baby. “I suppose you have to hurry back now. Do return soon, Winter.”

Shale bowed to her and turned to walk back. He could hear her begin to sing a lullaby to the baby, her voice growing fainter as she walked away from him toward the other side.

One day he wouldn’t be stopping halfway. Would she walk with him, or simply say hello to him as he passed?

He stepped off the bridge and onto the grass. His vision shifted, the sky darkened to just before sunset and the abandoned Church loomed tall in front of him.

Shale couldn’t suppress a shudder of revulsion. He never wanted to see this place again. The spirit haunting it might be across the bridge, the altar would no longer appear covered in blood to him, but he would never be able to look at it and see anything other than horrific, senseless murder.

And people had the nerve to call him a witch, a demon, evil.


End file.
